


Life Goes On

by atamascolily



Series: A Grief Observed [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: New Republic Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Force Ghosts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Skywalker Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamascolily/pseuds/atamascolily
Summary: Luke dies on the Death Star; Leia grieves.





	Life Goes On

Leia knows when Luke dies. A tiny, distant spark on the edge of her awareness flickers out as the dark shadow of the Death Star suspended in the air above her explodes, a fiery echo of the death of Alderaan four years earlier. It's such a small thing in the midst of the light and the noise that she might have overlooked it, except that it's been such a constant presence in her life, this quiet knowledge of her twin's existence - never mind that she didn't even know that she _had_ a twin until last night - but she's attuned to it now, and so she notices when it abruptly disappears. 

There's no pain. The spark is just simply... gone, in the same way that Alderaan is gone. She catches her breath, forces herself to exhale slowly. It doesn't matter what she does; Luke is gone, spacedust orbiting the forest moon, and there's nothing she or anyone else can do about it now. The Ewoks are cheering around them, fierce ululations of joy at their victory, and she wishes with all her heart that she could celebrate along with them, but she can't. Not now. Not like this. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Beside her, Han flinches as he pauses in bandaging the blaster wound in her arm. "I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew," he says, trying to comfort her and failing, though she appreciates the effort. He's been on edge ever since he found her alone last night, after Luke left to surrender himself to Vader, after revealing the truth of their shared heritage to Leia. Han knows that something's up, something big, because Leia spent the rest of the night sobbing in his arms, but he doesn't know what, exactly. She couldn't bear to tell him then, couldn't get the words past her throat, couldn't handle her whole life turned upside down yet again, yet again. 

It's not finding a brother that bothers her. She's known she was adopted her whole life - Bail and Breha had made no secret of it to her, though they kept that fact hidden from outsiders - but she's never felt she lacked for family in the vast extensive kin-network of the royal line of Alderaan. Luke's been a steadfast, devoted friend to her since the day they met, even if his puppy dug crush was a little much at the beginning. To have Luke in her family by blood as well as choice is not unwelcome at all. 

No, if she's honest with herself, it's her father that's the problem. It was bad enough when she lost her family, along with her entire planet, to Darth Vader. It was even worse when he captured her and Han, tortured them both, as bait in a trap for Luke. To find out that she herself is Vader's daughter is a bitterly ironic and unwanted twist. 

Han, bless his heart, is convinced that Leia spent the year he was frozen in carbonite falling for Luke, and nothing Leia says has convinced him otherwise. Deep down inside, he doesn't really believe a princess like her will stay with a scruffy scoundrel like him. He might tease her for it, but it marks a fearful tenderness that he's spent his whole life hiding from the world. Normally, Leia would find this endearing, but she hadn't counted on running head first into this tangled web of drama. 

Leia flops back into the fallen log that's supporting most of her weight at the moment. She can hear distant blaster shots, but with the Death Star destroyed and the Imperial fleet scattered, she expects the ground troops to surrender within the hour. You can never tell, though. They might decide to make a grand sucidal gesture and fight to the last man (and it's all men in the Imperial ranks; women and non-humans need not apply). 

"He was," she says slowly, the words dense and thick on her tongue. "I can feel it." 

Han opens his mouth to protest, but one look at her face and he thinks better of it. He's learned his lesson since last night - he doesn't say anything at all, just scoops her up into his arms and holds her close, without her having to ask. 

They sit like this for a long time, until the little Ewok she befriended - Wicket, is that his name? - comes running up, a bubbling furry ball of joy, smiling and cheering in his own language, eager to share the moment with his new friends. It takes all of Leia's diplomatic training to reach out to him, to smile and nod and shake his hand, and she hopes he'll attribute any hesitation to the wound in her arm, since the one in her heart isn't visible. Han follows her lead, but she can tell he's thinking how fragile she is right now, how one wrong move might break her. 

He's wrong, of course. The Empire hasn't been able to break her so far. She's not about to give them the satisfaction, especially here at the end. 

*** 

There is a celebration at the Ewok village with the whole tribe, and all of the surviving members of the strike team. A few pilots come down - she recognizes Wedge Antilles, his bright orange flight suit a neon target amidst the leaves and branches - and Lando, of course, is there, with his Sullustan co-pilot Nien Nunb, eager to share all the details of the epic space battle that Leia can't bear to hear. 

It's not Lando's fault that Luke is dead, Leia reminds herself. It was an accident. Collateral damage. Lando did what he had to do and so had she; the shield generator wouldn't have come down without her handiwork, after all. 

And then, of course, there's Luke Skywalker himself, determined to rescue Darth Vader from himself and damn the consequences. Even if he was right, and his presence was a danger to the mission, he didn't have to go straight to the heart of evil itself; he could have taken her advice and fled. He didn't, though, because Luke Skywalker is--was--a good person and a hero and never believed in taking the easy path. He died as he lived--honorable, brave, and completely stupid. The last part was bound to catch up with him sooner or later. 

If she's looking for blame, there's plenty go around. 

She sticks around as long as she can for the sake of appearances, dancing with Han and some of the younger Ewoks to the heavy drumbeats and the whistling flutes and horns. She notices that some of the drums are stormtrooper helmets, taken as trophies, and she shivers, remembering how the tribe wanted to sacrifice Han, Luke and Chewie as a tribute to their new god, Threepio. The Ewoks are loyal and brave, but their short stature and feral cuteness belies the ferocity that lurks within. They may be allies, but Leia knows she will have nightmares for the rest of her life of going down under a phalanx of wooden stakes after watching the Ewoks swarm and dismember fallen Imperials with brutal efficiency. 

They do make a pretty good redberry wine, though. She finds herself drinking quite a lot of it as the night goes on. It makes the edges fuzzy, makes everything that much more bearable. 

Luke ought to be here, but he's not. She keeps looking for him, waiting for him to show up, and he never does. She already knows he's gone, but she can't help it. Han and Lando make discreet inquiries when they think she's out of earshot, because they can't bring themselves to give up hope, but she knows it's futile. Luke is gone, and there's no bringing him back. The Force might give him the power to cloud the minds of Jabba's attendants or yank a saber out of the air, but it can't bring someone back from the dead. 

Han finally drags her away into one of the huts, where he's hung a series of sheets to give them relative privacy. "You love him, don't you," he says, and it's not a question. 

She rolls her eyes. Han is so dense sometimes. "Yes, but it's not like that. He's my _brother_ ," she says, and Han's eyes go wide and he makes an expression that would have been funny under other circumstances. She doesn't blame him for not believing her because it sounds so improbable when she says it out loud like that. "I just don't want him to be _gone_." 

"Me, too, sweetheart," Han says quietly, his voice catching in a strangled sob, and they hold each other for a long time without saying anything. The sex, when it comes, is rougher and more violent than it's ever been, but Han doesn't make a word of protest, not one, just lets her pour out all of her frustrations on him and scream and scream and scream until she's exhausted enough to sleep. 

*** 

In the morning, Leia has a pounding hangover, and cringes at Han's black eye and the bruises running down his arms, but everyone assumes the injuries are from the battle and no one comments. She throws herself into the work of organizing an official diplomatic relationship with the Ewoks (it's complicated because this one tribe can't possibly speak for the whole planet and also they think Threepio is a god) and helping Alliance High Command re-group. There's no shortage of work to be done now. 

They might have won the battle, but at a steep price: two-thirds of the Fleet was destroyed, and there's plenty of mourning to all around. Luke wasn't the only one to fall, not by a long shot. She goes to a number of funerals for people she knows, dressing in black and keeping her expression as blank as she can. She's not afraid to cry in public, but she's afraid that once she starts, she'll never stop, so she doesn't much, except with Han, who cries too sometimes. 

They build a pyre for him in the woods, even though there's no body; Leia just wants to burn something and Han, Lando, and Chewie are all too happy to oblige her. Threepio gets Wicket to help them fight the right wood -- no sense in offending the locals -- and they build a massive pile of logs a few klicks south of the village. Leia sits with it for the entire time it takes to burn, which is several hours, staring intently into the flames the entire time. _Good-bye, Luke_ , she wants to say, but she can't, so instead she throws herself into her work and spends the nights with Han on board the _Millennium Falcon_ , which is, for the lack of a better word, all the home and family she's got now. 

She'd thought that ship and its pilots were a total disaster when she first encountered them, but now she doesn't mind them so much. She just wishes Luke was there with her, too. 

At least that bastard Vader is dead along with his precious Emperor and Empire. She doesn't mourn him at all. As far as she can tell, no one does. 

(The only person who might miss Vader was Luke and Luke is gone now.)

The war isn't over yet. The Empire is in tatters, but there's still a lot of fighting, arguing, shooting and diplomacy to do. It'll be another two years of mopping-up action before the Alliance takes Imperial Center, two years before the New Republic is born.

(Two years is a long time to grieve, especially when no one knows you're grieving, or why.) 

Her Force-sense flickers now and then, warning her of danger when she needs it, though it's not a talent that she can predict and control. _You have that power, too,_ Luke told her, but she doesn't know how to use it and isn't sure she wants it, anyway, no matter how useful it might be to strangle people from a distance when she feels like it. She's seen that power abused too much to want it for herself, and she doesn't like the way people twist their faces when Vader's name comes up. 

She doesn't want to touch those powers because she's afraid that Vader's there in her, too. As long as she doesn't give him an opening, there's nothing he can do to hurt her anymore. As long as no one finds out, she's safe from Vader's friends and enemies alike, not to mention _herself_. 

Besides, she has no teacher. Her father killed them all except one -- her brother -- and he was the last. Now that he's gone, she wonders if it isn't better that way. She has better things to do with her time - repairing a galaxy that Vader broke, for instance. Let _that_ be her legacy. 

If Luke were here, he'd tell her that hatred leads to the dark side, but sometimes the hate and the fear is all that keeps her going some days. If she gave them up, what would be left? 

But Luke isn't here, so the conversation only happens in her head. 

She tells Han more about Luke, of course, and that Vader was their father. Han shakes his head at the unlikeliness of it all, and vows to keep his mouth shut. He swears it changes nothing, and it doesn't. She's grateful for his loyalty, especially considering how Vader treated him back on Cloud City. 

Things get a little easier once Han is there to share the burden. Han is a wonder, and she's lucky to be with him, but there's nothing he can do to bring her brother back, and he knows it. She sees him smile wistfully at her sometimes when he thinks she isn't looking, and shake his head. 

(He loved her enough to offer to let her go, if she preferred to be with Luke, the night before the battle on Endor. Leia's never forgotten how touched she was by that declaration - or how frustrated she was by how unnecessary an offer it was.) 

***

One night Leia dreams, but it's like no dream she's ever had before. She is standing in a field of stars, suspended in space, and everything is calm, suffused with a dim blue light and the countless lights of distant suns. Her brother Luke is there, just as she remembers him - dressed in black, his lightsaber at his side - though his expression is happier and lighter than it was that last night on Endor. When he smiles at her, it's like that day of the awards ceremony on Yavin, after the destruction of the first Death Star - it's exactly what should have happened at Endor, and, inexplicably, didn't. 

He was the hero. Heroes weren't supposed to die like that. They were supposed to brave all the impossible odds and return, as Lando had, as she and Han had done. Why had they survived when Luke--talented, powerful, gifted Luke--had not? 

"I'm sorry, Leia," he said to her. "I'm sorry to have left you behind. But you're strong--stronger than I ever was--and you have so much good work to do here." 

Leia is tired of people calling her strong, particularly when she feels so weak and brittle on the inside. But there's no point in arguing with the dead. "I miss you," she says instead. "Why did you stay away so long?" 

Luke shrugs. "It's taken me a while to master, this whole being dead business. There's still so much I don't know. I wanted -- to make sure you were all right. To see what I could do to help you."

"You are helping, just by being here," she says. "Stay with me. Talk to me. Guide me. I could use your help. It's a big galaxy out there and there's so much I don't know how to do." 

"You know more than you think you do," Luke says. "But yes, I'll try." 

After that, she sees him more and more often. He's there with her, a flickering shimmering shade on the edge of her vision, a spectral voice in her ear offering guidance. He's there for her marriage to Han, and the birth of her children, and she swears Jacen and Jaina can see their Uncle Luke in the corner, just as she can. He stays with her instead of moving on to wherever it is that people go when they die, and she doesn't ask too many questions about it because she's so grateful he's there with her. 

He doesn't push her to rebuild the Jedi, or develop her skills. He accepts what she can do, and leaves it at that. She asks him to help her teach her children when they're older and he accepts. "Though there may come a day when they're strong enough to see me directly, as you do," and she nods, not displeased with the idea. It may be unconventional, but the Skywalker line has always flouted the rules and she doesn't see any reason to stop now.

She doesn't ever see Vader. Luke doesn't ask how she feels about their father and she doesn't offer. Vader stays away, and she's grateful. It may be tragic, but his absence is the best gift he can give his daughter now. Vader's not her problem now. 

Years pass and Leia makes her peace with the way things are, watches her children grow and the New Republic flourish. Her life is a good one. She's not afraid to die, because she knows death isn't the end, and her brother will be waiting for her on the other side when her time comes.


End file.
